


By Your Side

by j_gabrielle



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Eat The Rude, Established Relationship, Feels, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Mpreg, mentions of cannibalism, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 15:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Done for ibahibut-stuff over from Tumblr. They prompted for Mpreg and Fluff. I tried to do the fluff thing, okay? I'm evidently not very good at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Your Side

Will isn’t next to him when he wakes. Hannibal rolls over, infinitely grateful that Will had insisted on blackout curtains for their room. The sleek chrome clock on his bedside table ticks away to a quarter past three in the afternoon.

Sitting up, he swings his legs over the side of the bed, shaking away the tendrils of sleep still clinging to his consciousness. Hannibal listens to the sounds of their home; finding Will by ear alone.

“Will?” He says softly, padding into their kitchen. Dimly, he recalls a time when he had used his soft footfalls as a way of sneaking up on his prey. Smiling despite himself, he comes up to where Will is leaning against the breakfast counter.

Hannibal reaches out to place his hand on the small of Will’s back, coming closer to look over his shoulder. That is when he sees the little frog booties in his mongoose’s hand and the open gift box at his elbow.

“Jack sent it over today. He said it was… a gift from him and Bella.” Will huffs without looking around, dropping into a nearby chair. With his thumb, he presses down on the button eyes, tracing the line of the frog’s smile. 

Hannibal snakes an arm around his waist, resting a palm on the zenith of Will’s distended belly. He imagines he could feel his unborn child respond to his touch. Stroking at the soft cotton tee, he brushes a kiss to the tip of Will’s ear. “And?”

“And, what?” Hannibal feels him leaning back into him.

“Something is bothering you. Are you uncomfortable with their gift?” He places his own hand on the booties, picking them up and examining them in the light of the sun. “They are gender neutral, which does not overstep any social boundaries so that shouldn’t be the thing that bothers you. The frog design is adorable, and according to the card in the box, it is handmade and a multitude of assurance of their eco friendliness.” Quietly, “So what bothers you?”

Will does not answer immediately, closing his eyes and arching his neck to nuzzle against Hannibal’s nape. ‘Seeking comfort’, Hannibal thinks. He sets the booties down and moves to embrace him.

“I just keep thinking that Jack won’t ever have his own children to buy these things for; that there will never be another being that is half of him and half of his wife. Just like how Bean has half of us.”

“Bean?” Hannibal chuckles, amused. His eyes turn up at the corners, catching the sight of the ultrasound on the fridge. Their baby was captured in a bright smudge amongst the static. It is still hard, even now, to believe that by some miracle, some fluke of nature Will carries a human with their combined DNA. It confuses him to no end, but he has long since learnt to never look a gift horse in the mouth. 

They have chosen not to know the gender of the child, though privately he was hoping it would be a girl. 

Will had found out whom… _what_ he was around the end of his first trimester. He had been intentionally loud while dissecting into his latest prey (a salesman who’d eyed his Will with ill-disguised disgust); using no anaesthetic, nailing his wrists and ankles in a blasphemous imitation of Christ on the cross. Hannibal wanted his tongue, thinking it would make a wonderful addition to a stew he was planning to cook for Will. 

Even then, Hannibal had half expected his brilliant boy to turn him in to Crawford. But his boy… Will Graham has never quite played to his meticulously constructed plans. His brilliant, brave, beautiful boy merely walked into the room and took the knife from his blood soaked hands asking, “Which part?”

They’d made love on the floor, slipping and sliding in the pool of blood. Hannibal left stark handprints on the sides of Will’s burgeoning belly, cradling him gently throughout. There has never been a lovelier sight, to him at least, than the sight of his lover shuddering through his orgasm; the white of his cum turning pink on his skin as Hannibal gently blended blood and spent together with the pads of his fingers.

Afterwards, he carried drowsy Will up the stairs and into their en suite bathroom, depositing him in the tub of warm water. “Why didn’t you run? I wouldn’t have hurt you or the babe if you had chosen to turn me in. I’m… A monster, aren’t I?” He asked voice loud, echoing against the tiles of the bathroom. He does not bother to hide the thread of insecurity tainting his words. 

“I think I’ve always known what you were. What you are.” Will confesses a short while later as Hannibal slips into the bath with him. “It didn’t surprise me, to be honest. I did not feel scared of you, not one bit.” He smiles sleepily, nudging against Hannibal’s naked thigh with his toe. “What scared me though was the thought of you not knowing our child. I was afraid of that the most.” Will had sobered up then, looking straight into Hannibal’s eyes. “I was scared of a life without you.”

Hannibal had felt a strange emotion welling up in him then. Leaning forward, displacing the milky pink water, he pressed their foreheads together, whispering, “If you told me to stop, I would. I would give everything, every single thing up. For you. All you have to do, is tell me to stop. And I would do it for you.” He had caressed the firm flesh of Will’s stomach. 

“Hannibal?”

Will is frowning up at him. “What’s wrong?” Hannibal blinks away the memories, looking into his partner’s eyes.

Smiling at him reassuringly, he kisses his lips. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Will sighs, standing back up. “The artist I commissioned for the nursery will be here tomorrow. Do you have anything you’d like to add to the design?”

“I trust you will make all the right decisions. But promise me that you won’t tax yourself too much?”

He laughs, looking years younger when he does. Tucking the booties under his arm, he grunts, steadying himself. “You sound like my father.”

Hannibal follows closely, hand never leaving Will’s waist. “Is he still coming to visit?”

“In two weeks, for a hellish three week stay.” Will groans, bare feet falling on the soft carpet in the hallway. The new house was a compromise. A new start, new beginnings. Its’ rooms perfect for a new family, added with the lands surrounding their property also attached to the purchase of the house, it made up the running grounds of Will’s dogs. They had come along too, as per compromise, and much to Hannibal’s continued exasperation and amusement.

“I’ll be sure to be your buffer while he’s around.” Hannibal soothes, guiding him back to bed. “Should I prepare a menu for his stay?”

“Mmm…” Will grinned, lying back down on top of the covers. “I’m thinking of some blood sausages.”

Hannibal chuckled, spooning him from behind. Burying his nose into the back of Will’s head, he muttered, “From that redneck?”

“You spoil me.” 

Linking their hands together to rest on Will’s belly, Hannibal sends a silent prayer of thanks to a god that he isn’t sure listens anymore. He will be forever grateful for the words that Will whispered into the space between them, that fateful day.

“Don’t stop.”

 

 

[end.]

**Author's Note:**

> The frog booties I had envisioned: [Here](http://www.craftsy.com/pattern/knitting/accessory/frog-baby-booties/49352#)


End file.
